Whatever Happened To Saturday Night?
by Charleygyrl
Summary: Kurt works at the Spotlight Diner one night, when a group of businessman come in. He can't keep his eyes off of one handsome dapper man, and is instantly smitten. But, Kurt doesn't even know if he's gay...Will the rude attitude of one other man ruin it? Klaine Rated M. Small ficlet, not yet complete. Waitress!Santana & Rachel. Wealthy!Blaine Waiter!College Student!Kurt. Age gap
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, peeps. Believe it or not, I got this inspiration when my husband and were out the other night, just eating at the RAM. Boom. Inspiration. It truly is amazing when and where it can hit. I hope you enjoy it. I plan on this only being 2-3 chapters long, more like a ficlet. As we know in Glee, Kurt got bullied by Karofsky, hence spying on the Warblers...the rest is history. ;) Well, in this verse, Kurt and Blaine never met, they both are in New York at the moment. Blaine is 26; Kurt is 21, currently attending NYU as a second year student. Blaine works for his father in law firm, most definitely not what he wants to do; he's only doing it to please his father. Takes place in Spotlight Diner, Kurt is waiting Mr. Anderson's table...

Warnings at the beginning of each chapter, as usual.

I don't own Klaine, I wish.

No beta, all mistakes my own.

Warnings: Homophobic slurs, swearing, mentions of alcohol, mentions of Kurt's past bullying at McKinley

Kurt meticulously scrubbed at one of the tables, growling in frustration, when he looked up to check the time. It was a Saturday night, the Spotlight Diner was _packed,_ and Kurt still had two hours to go until his shift ended. Needless to say, he just wanted to go home.

The door _pinged!,_ signaling yet, _more_ customers flowing in to sit down for a delicious meal. He sighed, momentarily content with the state of cleanliness of the table, and headed straight for the back. He searched for Santana, and he spotted her right away, a large red serving tray josling at her hip.

"Porcelain, you got the next table." She spoke up as she hurried past Kurt to make a Coke.

"Fuck." Kurt said, grimacing.

"Language, Hummel." Santana reprimanded.

"Yeah, like _you_ haven't said or done _dirtier_ things with your own mouth,...I don't wanna hear it." Kurt replied.

"I sure have." She stated blunt. "You wouldn't _believe_ some of those sexy noises Brit makes when I put my tong-" San started, but Kurt cut her off right away.

"Aaaaaand, I'm out! La-la-la-laaaaa!" He said, sticking his fingers in his ears, walking away to the new table.

His eyebrows rose to his hairline as he neared the table of 5 or 6 businessmen, all of them complete with suits and ties, and all chatting away in low hushed voices.

 _Great, rich sobby men...This should be fun._ Kurt thought miserably. "Hello, welcome to the Spotlight Diner. My name is Kurt and I'll be taking care of you guys tonight."

"Really?" A very rude man spoke up in a displeased voice. He eyed Kurt up and down like he was disgusting, and Kurt swallowed, _knowing_ that look.

"I-Is there a problem, sir?" Kurt asked nervously, dreading the answer, and he tapped his pen on his pad of paper.

"Yes, obviously there's a problem. I don't want some _fag_ taking my ord-"

"Dad! Stop that!" Another voice hissed from across the homophobic asshole.

Kurt's heart sped up, and soon enough, he saw red. He was now even _more_ irrate. _What the hell?!_ Kurt clenched his mouth shut, just to refrain _his own_ choice of hurtful words, and his eyes found a pair of beautiful hazel colored ones staring back. The gorgeous Adonis licked his lips, and his eyes settled back onto the menu, obviously hiding a timid smile.

Kurt took a moment to really look at the handsome man's appearance. This man's dark hair was gelled down to perfection, almost like glued to his head, although Kurt _did_ wonder what it would look like without all that intimadating hair product, and the waiter's eyes darted down every so often to hot-businessman's pink plump lips, wetting them as his eyes tried to focus on the menu beofre him.

"Hello? Excuse me?" Rude older man said out of boredom.

Kurt snapped out of his trance and he forced a smile. "Yes, sir?" He got his pen and paper ready.

"I _said_ I want a glass of sweet tea, no lemon."

 _Aaaand I'd like to punch you in the face...but I can't, so..._ Kurt thought, as he wrote down the order. He soon got the other man's orders, and when he came around the table to handsome hunk, he asked, "and for you, sir?"

Hot businessman smiled, "Apple juice, please."

 _So polite...what are you? Like 5? So adorable..._ Kurt scribbled hunky man's drink. "Ok, I'll be back with your drinks. Let me know if you would like any of our appitizers. It's happy hour, which means most of them are half off."

As Kurt turned and walked off, he heard Mr. Rude muttering, "I can't _believe_ they gave my table to a _queer_ waiter..."

Kurt held in tears.

xxxK&Bxxx

Kurt is gay, out and proud, since he came out to his father at the age of 16. His father had known since Kurt was three; he asked for a sensible pair of heels for his birthday. So, Kurt _is_ out and proud, but the comments from Mr. Asshole earlier did _not_ help. (Kurt did alot of thinking later on, and came to the conclusion, that, obviously, Mr. Ass was hunky man's father. Hopefully, not his boss.) In fact, the comments still hurt, even if Kurt didn't show it or voice it. Going to NYU as a second year student has its perks. For a while, Kurt can forget about the bigots, and solely concentrate on his studies. Still young at the age of 21, Kurt never really has been in a "commited relationship". Kurt dated Chandler, back in Ohio, in high school, but Kurt felt Chandler was too clingy. Sure, they had alot in common, but Kurt didn't feel any sort of chemistry. They only dated for about two weeks, until Chandler moved away. When Kurt moved to New York, after he graduated, he met Adam. Sure, Adam was sweet and had a good heart, but, once again, he didn't _feel any passion._ No spark. Nothing. Adam was kind, and he understood, so when Kurt let him go, the Brit didn't hold anything against Kurt. To this day, they are still good friends.

Then, Kurt met Elliot when Santana and Rachel convinced Kurt one night, with alcohol coursing through their veins, they should start a band and call it "Pamela Landsbury". They were all drinking at a friend's house party, and that's where Kurt met Elliot Starchild. It was fun, or so Kurt thought, but he also knew, it would be a one time fling, so to speak.

They never did get that band together.

Now, in the present, as he stared dreamily from afar at the hot man, while making their desired drinks, he found himself subconciously licking his lips. _Is he even gay? What are my chances? Fuck, he's looking over here...act normal!_ Kurt snapped his eyes back at the drinks, his neck and ears a crimson shade. _Caught, damn._

"He's cute. You best tap that, or I will, Hummel." Santana said from behind the taller baffled man.

"San! He's not-! Ugh, how do you even _know_ he plays for my team?" Kurt sputtered. Still staring at the hunk, he felt the fountain drinks start to overflow, and cursed. "Damn it!" _So worth spilling fizzling soda all over the counter..._

"My mexican third eye never fails me. You _know_ this." She assured with her signature eye roll.

"Right, right, Whatever..." Kurt mumbled as he grabbed his tray, sauntering off to the table. "Ok, so we have two iced teas, both sweet, one with no lemon, an apple juice," Kurt paused, his gaze drifting to the sexy man, blushing... _Is he blushing?! Wishful thinking, Hummel._ "...a coke, and a glass of ice water no lemon."

"Great." Rude man grumbled under his breath.

Kurt rolled his eyes.

"Dad, _please_ stop. Shit." The hottie hissed once again, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, before his amber eyes found Kurt's.

Kurt's heart sank. _So, he IS his dad...Damn it..._

"Don't pay him any attention..." He said again, waving off his father's intense glare, and his eyes found Kurt's nametag. "...Kurt."

"Blaine Devon Anderson, you will _not_ start this..." Mr. Anderson threatened under his breath.

 _Hmm, Blaine. Nice._ "Are you guys going to sit there and bicker or...are you going to actually order?" Kurt asked slowly.

Blaine snorted, and in return, Mr. Anderson gave Kurt a death glare.

"Ex _cuse_ me quee-"

"We'll order, thank you, Kurt." Blaine interrupted, flashing his perfect pearly whites. "I'll have the grilled tilapia with roasted veggies...and what do you suggest as a fantastic dessert?" Blaine whispered, his eyes flickering to Kurt's now dry lips.

"Uhm...l-let me get b-back to you on that...Blaine is it?" Kurt confirmed, his palms sweating profusely.

Blaine nodded. "It is."

Mr. Anderson sat across from their conversation, scowling. "Blaine, we will discuss this later...Meanwhile,..." A pause from Mr. Ass as he scanned the menu, "I want the smoke-house steak, medium _rare,_ none of that burnt charred shit..."

Kurt sighed, writing down his order. He felt Blaine's gaze on him as he continued to scribble Mr. A's demanding wants. He poked his tongue out, concentrating on getting the damn order correct, as to not screw it up, (he wants to keep his job, mind you) when he heard Blaine clearing his throat from beside him. He looked at Blaine, and the hunky man turned beet red, despite his olive-skinned complexion, and immediately narrowed his eyes at his juice.

"... _loaded_ mashed potatoes, _not_ mashed. Grilled asparagus..." He went on. Kurt saw Blaine make a face at the mention of grilled asparagus.

Kurt giggled.

"Is there something funny?" Mr. A stopped with an icy glare.

"Nope. Proceed." Kurt waved him off.

"Sour cream on _the side._ You got all that?" He finished, a sour look turned towards the pale waiter.

Kurt only nodded. He walked around to the rest of the co-workers, talking lowly about the next upcoming tedious project.

Kurt couldn't concentrate; his eyes kept drifting over to Blaine. He widened his eyes as he found Blaine intently biting his lower lip.

Kurt swallowed, and Blaine ducked his head with a prominent blush, absentmindingly twirling his straw in his apple juice.

A couple of corrections and dirty glares from Mr. Ass (not to mention, his co-workers) later, Kurt strolled off, preparing to give the list to the kitchen cooks.

"Kuuuurt! He's perfect for you!" Rachel cooed, straightening her ponytail.

"Rach! Sssh!" He hissed, and with a panicked look, glanced over to the table, only to see Blaine's dad barking at him. Kurt felt bad for the man. "Rachel," Kurt sighed tiredly, and the shorter brunette perked up at her name, "We don't even know if he's _gay._ " Kurt tried to explain exasberately, his hands flailing wildly about.

"Porcelain, I swear, if you say that one more time...do you not trust me?" San said sarcastically, inspecting her nails with complete boredom.

 _Is that a trick question or...?_ "Of course I do, San," Kurt started.

"What?! Seriously, Kurt?!" Rachel preened.

"Thank you." Santana said with confidence.

"But..."Kurt started again, hesitant.

"Uh huh, I knew it..." Rachel butt in.

"But?!" Santana pressed, narrowing her eyes.

"...nothing. I gotta use the bathroom." Kurt said instead, and excused himself, heading for the bathroom.

As Kurt did his business, a familiar voice came into the bathroom. "Of course, sweetie! Ok! I miss you, too."

 _Blaine!_ Kurt's eyes widened, and he continued to eavesdrop on the conversation.

"I suppose, mmhmm, yeah. Why not...we could do that..." Blaine mumbled, the sound of the sink facet running water.

 _Sweetie? Damn it, I thought I had a chance...He's taken..._ Kurt pouted, and zipped up his skinnies. He took a deep breath, listening in. _Lucky guy...or girl...he's probably planning their date..._

"Friday? 7? Ok, I can put it in my phone, sweetheart. Ok, see you then. Love you." _Click._

The water turned off, and he heard Blaine sigh. Moments later, (and Kurt was totally _not_ peeking through the stall, nope) Blaine left the bathroom, leaving Kurt distraught.

Washing his hands at the sink, he read the clock on the wall. 6:53. Kurt's shift is supposed to end in 7 minutes, but now Kurt didn't want to leave, and it was totally _not_ for a certain dapper businessman. He sighed, drying his hands, and returned to the waiting area.

Kurt noticed right away, Santana apoligetically shaking her head no, and Mr. Asswipe looking like he's biting her head off. She pressed her lips into a thin line as Mr. Anderson continued to bitch about _something_ obviously being wrong with his order. Kurt took a deep breath, straighted his shirt, and headed over. "What's the problem, sir?"

"I _told_ you homo, I did _not_ want this charred crap! Medium _rare._ And these mashed potatoes are _cold._ I want a refund. The only thing half way decent in this god forsaken restaraunt is the sweet tea." Mr. Anderson scowled.

Blaine dropped his head tiredly into his hands, avoiding the speculation from other customers, happily enjoying _their_ meals. Blaine mumbled something, and his father's head snapped to his son. "What was that?" He asked irritably.

"Nothing, dad. Let's just go..." Blaine muttered, running a hand down his face.

 _Don't go! Damn it..._ Kurt mentally pleaded.

"Sir, I'm sorry about your food, we will most definitely get you a refund asap. Can I get you anything else?" Kurt forced out.

"No. I think we're done here." He answered, giving Kurt another nasty look. "Gentlemen. Blaine. Let's go." They obliged, grabbing their breifcases, ready to leave.

Blaine stared at Kurt for a moment, before smiling apoligetically, and shrugging his shoulders.

Kurt walked off, heartbroken. He couldn't win with Mr. Ass. Now, he'll never see Blaine again. The door _pinged,_ and Kurt knew that Blaine, was indeed, gone. A single tear fell down his face, and he hurried to wipe it off.

"Porcelain, could you clean up that table, so we could get it ready for another customer. And don't worry about old dude. He's probably pissed off that he doesn't get laid enough anymore..." San retorted, her voice clearly irrate.

Kurt just nodded, grabbed a rag, and headed over to Blaine's now vacant table. He saw the reciept and a $5 tip. Kurt's brows furrowed in confusion. He picked up the reciept, and his heart raced a mile a minute when he saw a phone number discreetly scribbled on the slip of paper. On the bottom, a note was written.

 _Kurt, I am so sorry about my father being a jackass. Let me make it up to you. Please go on a date with me? 555-0783 Blaine Anderson_

Kurt choked out a sob, and stuffed the reciept into his skinny jeans pocket. As Kurt pulled his phone out to type in the hottie's number, his face lit up with a smile, _finally_ hopeful for once.

Reviews? ;)

-Marianne xoxo


	2. Chapter 2

Not an update

A/N: Guys! I just wanted to let you know I will be on hold for a while because I got a new job! (I start training the day after I turn 31, January 4th!) I'll be working at a nursing home, so therefore, my updates will be even less...I do know, at this present time, my days off will be Wednesdays and Thursdays, so I'll try my best to update a fic a week. I'm so sorry to keep you all waiting. Life being a mother, with two kids and hubby in the military is hard. I hope you understand. Just...please _please_ try to bear with me...I will most definitely try my best, ok? Escpecially, for all you lovely and devoted readers. Just know that I'll never abandon a fic. I want to try to update Whatever Happened To Saturday Night before Monday! And try to finish it before I start work. It'll only be 3 chapters. :) Muah! Thanks for all your support; I'll update soon! :*

-Marianne xoxox


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Homophobic slurs, swearing

No beta, all mistakes my own. No, I still don't own Glee, Kurt or Blaine, sadly. Enjoy! :P

Chapter 3

Kurt nervously paced his living room, as he contemplated what to say to Blaine Anderson. Blaine from the diner the other night, yes, _that_ Blaine. He couldn't get those hazel eyes and his gorgeous smile out of his mind since last Saturday night. He stared at the man's number in his phone, all the while biting his nail.

"Porcelain... _call_ him...god. You make it sound like it's some sort of big deal..." Santana retorted with air quotes, as she grabbed a water bottle out of the fridge.

Kurt turned around and scoffed. "It _is_ a big deal! This is _Blaine!_ And, not to mention, I'm terrified of his father..."

"Whiiiich shouldn't even really BE in the picture..." Santana mumbled.

Kurt waved his hand dismissively. "Ok, ok. Here I go..." He took a deep breath and dialed Blaine's number.

"Hello, Blaine Anderson speaking."

"H-Hi, uhm Blaine?" Kurt squeaked out, a prominent blush on his face and neck.

Santana snorted from across the room.

"Kurt! Hey, how've you been?" Blaine asked cheerfully.

"I-I'm ok...Uhm, I got your message..." Kurt muttered, and took a seat on his couch.

"Oh? Good, I was hoping you'd see it before any of your other friends did..." Blaine stated, a sigh of relief.

Kurt giggled. "Actually, I was wondering if you were f-free today, m-maybe? For lunch? You...y-you don't have t-to..." Kurt rambled on.

"Kuuuuurt, I would LOVE to! I literally just walked out of my office...my father only gave me an hour...I'm heading towards a small coffee shop...Do you wanna meet me there?"

Kurt nodded frantically, even though Blaine couldn't see him. "Y-Yeah, yes. Ok. I'll see you shortly." He hung up, and jumped up with excitement. "Gotta go!" Kurt grabbed his keys, wallet, and coat, and headed out.

"Use protection!" Santana yelled.

xxxK&Bxxx

Kurt knew what coffee shop Blaine meant. He was already there, sitting down, nervously jiggling his leg as he waited for Blaine. It wasn't long before the door _pinged!_ and Kurt looked up to see Blaine, looking adorable as ever. His face was tinited pink and his nose was red, probably from the cold. He tugged on his scarf as he looked around for Kurt, eyes lighting up when he spotted him near the back.

"Kurt! Hey, sorry if I'm a little late..." Blaine said out of breath, and he took a seat across from Kurt.

"It's fine...you're fine." _Yes, you are._ Kurt took a minute to really look at Blaine's dishelved appearance. His hair was gelled again, but Kurt could tell that a few loose curls were starting to poke out at the back. His nose was red from the cold, and he rubbed his hands on his pants, probably warming them up. _Still goregous..._

"What do you want? I'll order for us." Blaine smiled sweetly, as he stood up, draping his scarf over the chair.

"Oh, I'll take a grande non-fat mocha..." Kurt answered breathlessly. "Thank you."

"My pleasure. I'll be right back." He winked, _actually fucking winked,_ at Kurt as he strode off to order their coffees.

Kurt's breathing hitched when he _most certainly did not_ look at Blaine's ass in those tight pants as he walked away...He bit his lip and lowered his head. He glanced at his watch. 12:16.

"Here you go, Kurt. One grande non-fat mocha and a blueberry muffin for you. I hope you like them?" He asked warily, sitting down.

 _Anything from you, yes._ "I do, thank you, Blaine..." Kurt replied. "So what time do you have to be back at the office?" Kurt cringed every time he thought of Blaine's father.

Blaine noticed Kurt's discomfort right away. "Don't worry about him. I'm so _so_ sorry about the other night, god, he's an asshole..."He muttered anger evident in his voice.

"I-It's o-" Kurt started.

"Don't you dare, Kurt. It's most definitely _not ok._ I'm sorry." He gazed into Kurt's blue eyes, his words sounding so sincere.

"You didn't do anything. If anything, you made my night better..." Kurt said with a slight blush.

Blaine's honey eyes widened slightly. "Oh?"

Kurt bit his bottom lip, nodding. _Is this a date?_

"Only if you want it to be."

Kut's head snapped up. "Huh?"

Blaine smiled sheepishly. "Yeah, you kind of said that out loud. It's ok though." Blaine reassured Kurt, when the waiter was about to protest. He settled his hand atop Kurt's and instantly loved the warmth.

"Oh, I definitely want it to be..." Kurt whispered in a small voice.

"Then there you have it." Blaine said, like it was simple.

And, really, it was. Satan- Santana _was_ right. Kurt made it out to be a big deal. But, this is Blaine...kind, adorable, and gentle Blaine. "So, tell me about yourself."

"Well, I know you know by now, or have at least _some_ idea, that I do not want to work for my father's law firm...I'm only doing it to please him." Blaine shrugged helplessly.

"Wow. Blaine, I'm sorry. What DO you want to do?" Kurt asked, sipping his hot drink, curious.

"You'll laugh at me..."Blaine chuckled nervously, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

"I would never!" Kurt scoffed, a hand dramatically coming to his chest.

Blaine burst out laughing, his eyes never leaving a playful Kurt Hummel. "Ok, ok. Uh...Iwanttoworkwithkids."

"Come again?" Kurt asked, his perfect eyebrow raised.

"I want to work with kids, Kurt. I love kids..." Blaine repeated, nodding enthusiastically.

 _Well, shit._ "T-That's amazing! Really?" Kurt said cheerfully. _I think you'd be great at it...you seem like a playful 5 1/2 year old...an overactive, hyperactive puppy..._

"Yeah, I'm 26. I'm still quite young. I went to college a few years back. My father didn't like what I was trying to major in...he had a few words. But, I finished the semester, though. I just need a little bit more to get my teaching degree. I came out to him when I was 13...he was so convinced it was just a _'phase'_ and even tried to get me to rebuild a 1957 Chevy with him. What about you?"

Kurt was stunned. "O-Oh me? Oh, I'm n-not as great as y-you, Blaine...uhm..." Kurt answered, discouraged.

"Kurt. No." Blaine said pursing his lips, and covered Kurt's hand again. "You are every great as me. Probably even more so. I'm just surprised you wanted something to DO with me, after the way he treated you..." Blaine sighed.

"Why wouldn't I? You're adorable..." Kurt sniggered. "Ok, ok. I'm going to NYU at the moment. Just doing my basic studies for now. I'd like to pursue a career in fashion, though. Possibly work for _Vogue_ one day..."

Blaine bounced excitedly in his seat. "That's wonderful! I bet you'd be great at it."

Kurt just shrugged his shoulders, his ears burning hot, because Blaine was _still holding his hand_ and ok, wow. _It's hot in here...or it's me..._ Kurt swallowed.

At that moment, Blaine's phone rang, and he hurried to answer. His face was a scowl.

 _Oh no no...please no...don't go. Not yet...please, Blaine..._ Kurt mentally pleaded.

"Father."

Kurt heard the asshole's voice booming through the other side. He winced.

"I'm eating lunch, what do you _think?"_ He deadpanned. Rolling his eyes, he gave an apologetic smile to Kurt. "I don't have to be back until one..." Blaine shook his head. "Paperwork? Uh huh...wonderful."

Kurt grinded his teeth, just absolutely wanting to punch his father. He cleared his throat, and Blaine looked up horrified. Blaine frantically shook his head _no_ and _be quiet._

"...With a friend, why?" Blaine huffed in annoyance.

 _"You aren't with a fag, are you, Blaine Devon Anderson..."_

Blaine's eyes went wide. His shoulders slumped in defeat.

 _"That's what I thought...come back to the office, now."_

"No." Blaine said stern.

Kurt's eyes went wide, mouthing _I don't wanna get you into trouble._

Blaine cradled the phone between his shoulder and cheek, waving his hands. "Father, I'm going to be back at one. I have lunch until one pm. Is that correct?"

 _"Well, yes, Blaine. But I'm your boss..."_

"I'll see you at one, father." He hung up, and breathed a sigh of relief. "Shit..."

"M-Maybe I s-should go...uhm..." Kurt whispered sadly, starting to gather his things.

"Please don't...I-I don't want you to go, Kurt. Stay." Blaine begged n a distraught voice.

Kurt took in his tired appearance, and gave a small smile, nodding, "Ok."

xxxK&Bxxx

Kurt walked with Blaine back to Anderson Law Firm, the big intimadating letters above their heads. He didn't want Blaine to go, but Blaine had a job.

"Kurt, I had such an amazing time...I'm so sorry it was cut short. W-We should do something this weekend? If you're not working of course." Blaine asked, giving a nervous giggle around his scarf.

"Of _course,_ I would. We'll talk about it more over the phone, when you get off? Is that ok?" Kurt asked.

"Yeah, that's fine. I get off at 3, so I'll text you when I get home." Blaine replied, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Ok." Kurt grinned.

Blaine turned around, looking in the clear window behind them, and suddenly tensed up. Turning around, he smiled genuinely at Kurt. "I gotta go, ugh." He stepped forward, lightly pressing his lips to Kurt's flushed cheek, savoring his smell. "I'll see you later..." And he walked away, tightening his scarf and jacket, and walked back into the law firm with a definite skip in his step.

Kurt's heart raced, and his cheek still tingled where Blaine kissed him, as he walked back to his Navigator.

xxxK&Bxxx

Kurt kept glancing at their clock, checking the time, just waiting for Blaine to text him. It read 3:04pm.

"Hummel, it STILL reads the SAME time as when you checked it 2 seconds ago, shit..." Santana muttered, looking at her nails with great boredom.

Kurt hhrmph, folding his arms across his chest as he settled in comfortably on his couch. "I totally did _not_ check 2 seco-"

"Yes, you did, Kurt. But, it's sooooo cuuute!" Rachel cooed.

Kurt kept mumbling adorably under his breath, as his roommates kept browsing the tv for something good to watch.

Kurt's phoe buzzed, and Kurt's faced flushed, eyes lighting up, and he jumped off the couch to answer.

He immediately dialed Blaine. "Hi."

"Hey." A sniffle.

Kurt's heart sunk. _Did he not like me? Did his father say he can't see me anymore? I'm afraid to ask..._ "Blaine? What's wrong?"

"Uh, I-I'm sorry, Kurt but I-" Blaine choked out a sob.

"You can't see me anymore, I know, I know..." Kurt sighed, his stomach feeling naseous all of a sudden.

"Wait. What?" Blaine perked up.

"What?" Kurt asked.

"Kurt, no. No no no, gosh, no. Uh. I..." Blaine sniffled again, and Kurt just wanted to take him in his arms, hold him while he cried, and never let go.

"W-What is it then?" Kurt asked again, hesitant.

"Promise you won't get mad?"

"Blaine...I-I'm worried...what..." Kurt repeated, figgeting. "Where are you? Did he hurt you?"

"No...he d-didn't hurt me..." Blaine whispered, his voice slightly muffled. "Kurt, I just lost my job..."

Dun, dun duuuun...Should I post the next chapter as Blaine's POV and the conversation he had with his father after coming back from the coffee shop to see why Blaine lost his job or? Let me know, please. Reviews are motivation.

-Marianne xoxox


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